


White Noise

by Tashilover



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gangbang, Graphic descriptions, Non-con/dub-con situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 21:47:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3463193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tashilover/pseuds/Tashilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They ignored him as if his protests were nothing but white noise to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Noise

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a dream last night. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

There were too many hands. There were too many fingers, mouths, and tongues, touching him in places not even Martin himself could barely reach. Every time he tried to move away, it felt like he merely stepped into a new section of hands that were reaching for him. There was no escape.

There was a mouth at the back of his knee, kissing him there, licking and suckling the skin. He felt fingers move across his shoulder blades, tracing his freckles, tickling him gently. Martin flexed his back, as if trying to dislodge a fly, but the fingers merely came back, followed by another mouth.

His nipples were constantly touched. Someone was always sucking on them, tugging on them, biting them, or flicking them. As soon as one hand moved away, another took its place, their preference of stimulation different from the person before. On his right, a dark skinned hand plucked at it, before rolling it achingly with his thumb. On Martin's left, a woman lapped at him lazily, making him groan. When she moved down to kiss at his side, an unknown hand from behind Martin came up and grasped the nub, rolling it between their fingers.

"Don't..."

He had no idea how many times he asked them to stop. They continued as if his cries and protests were nothing but white noise to them.

Martin had already come once by the assistant of a hand. He didn't even know whose hand. The discharge that splattered on his belly was already gone, wiped away by another tongue. He was still hard, but not yet ready for another go; as if that mattered to these people. One man was rooted right in front of Martin, licking and sucking his cock, slapping away any offending hand that tried to interfere. Martin did his best not to look at him, though oddly enough, felt a little grateful towards the man. At least only _one_ person was touching his cock, unlike the two new people who were now sucking at his nipples.

"Can you come from your nipples alone?" One person asked, drawing back. He brought up his finger to quickly flick at the nub.

"No..." Martin gritted out even as the pleasure built within him. The other person drew back too, flicking at his nipple just as quickly. The sweet, biting sensations were making direct line to his cock. "Get your hands off of me-"

He came again, his whole body shuddering while his cock spurted weakly. The man on the floor swallowed Martin's come for the second time that hour. Once he was done, he tongued Martin's slit like he was looking for more, forcing a pained moan out of Martin.

There was a triumphant " _Ha!_ " and the mouth descended back to his over-sensitized chest.

Martin's own hands were kept busy. They guided his hand around, using them as their own sex toy. He would be touching a breast at one minute, and in the next they would curl his fingers around a hard cock. In the beginning they had slipped his index and middle fingers into a dripping pussy, but realized that was boring because he refused to move them once they were inside. At the moment a woman used his right thumb to rub at her clitoris, while on his left, a man suckled on three of his fingers.

Suddenly, someone with a sharp fingernail wiggled their digit into his anus.

"OW! Ow, ow, _fuck-!_ "

There was a murmur of protest from those around him. The hand quickly withdrew as the crowd pushed away the offending person and their unnecessary sharp fingernail. They quickly went back to what they were doing, and a tongue was gently lapping at his asshole, as if apologizing for the pain.

"Please," Martin said, pulling away from the insistent kisses of a man with a full beard. "I-I-I need a break. I think I'm going to faint..."

He was being pulled into another heated kiss, this time by a different man. "Please!" he begged again, wrenching his head away. "Can I... can I get some water?"

Now _that_ they listened to. Almost immediately a water bottle was pressed against his lips, allowing him to drink. Cool, fresh water parched his thirst. As he drank, he noticed a good of the touching left him, giving him this simple relief without distraction. The only person who continued to touch him was the man on his cock, who gentled his touch by softly pressing his lips against Martin's flesh.

Martin finished the bottle. He was able to get in two deep breaths before the touching resumed.

He started crying. He didn't know why it only took him this long to get to this point. Maybe now that he was hydrated. Another finger had entered him, this time with a soft fingernail curve. It pressed gently against his prostate, making him gasp and shake.

A soft voice whispered into his ear. " _Do you want to finish?"_

Though Martin knew what the voice was asking when they meant, 'finished', the promise of relief in their tone of voice sounded so sweet. He nodded.

A hand curled into his hair and his head was bent to look down at himself. "Watch him," said the voice, pointing to the man on Martin's cock, like Martin didn't know whom they were talking about.

It had only been about ten, maybe fifteen minutes since Martin's last orgasm. Not enough time for him to recover, certainly not at his age. He wanted to tell them it was impossible for him to have a third orgasm in the space of an hour. It was a damn miracle he was even able to go twice. "I can't..." he sniffled. "I can't, it's too much..."

It wasn't only the kneeling man Martin had to watch: he could still see two different hands on his chest, stimulating his nipples. One woman mouthed at his thigh, while a man caressed his calf muscle, rubbing semen around on Martin's skin like it was lotion.

The man's knees must be aching at this point, but he continued on, sucking on Martin's cock with vigor. He bobbed his head, sucking hard. His hand played with Martin's balls, rolling them in his hand.

"Please..." Martin said. His hips thrusted forward without thought. If he gagged this man, he didn't care, but the movement only seemed to encourage the man. "Oh-oh-oh please..."

The finger inside of him continued to rub softly against his prostate. Two hands were caressing his ass, while his neck and ears were kissed and suckled on. His left hand was someone's cock again, while his right arm was raised up so his armpit could be licked. He didn't know whose hand was whose, how it was possible so many mouths could be on him at once, but the last image he saw before he came was the kneeling man, pumping Martin's cock, his mouth opened to receive his come.

At the last second, he looked away.

He cried out in sheer agony, feeling his cock spurt pathetically as unwanted pleasure rolled over him like a wave. Everyone paused in their administrations to watch. One person even had the audacity to clap.

Exhausted beyond belief, Martin's knees gave out and he nearly toppled over. The hands grasped him, then slowly guided him down to the floor. "Please," Martin said again, closing his eyes. He felt sticky and wet. His nipples ached from being abused so much. There were bite marks all over his skin, hickies dotting his chest. He was a mess. "No more... I can't take..."

He thought they would leave him alone. He really did.

The familiar sound of a vibrator was turned on. He opened his eyes and watched all around him as various devices were brought out. Bullet vibrators, dildos, prostate stimulators-

He jumped when kneeling man suddenly snapped on a cock ring on him. "No," said the kneeling man. He had a streak of come on his cheek. "We're not done yet."


End file.
